On Monday mornings I have chapel with the three and four-year-olds in our preschool. We begin with singing "Jesus Loves Me" and conclude with the Lord's Prayer. As far as my homily is concerned, well, there isn't much to say to 3 and 4-year-olds.

"Pick your poison" is an expression used when referring to choosing between two horrible options, say a root canal or a spinal tap. Neither option is appealing.
In today's news the picking of your poison has become a veritable smorgasbord.

"And the rockets glare" - again we come to celebrate and remember our Independence Day, the Fourth of July. In 1776 we declared our independence from the British throne. No more King George, yet we named the state of Georgia after him.

"When did it begin," so we may have asked ourselves? When did I begin liking asparagus or when did I begin wearing a certain style of clothing? When we pause to reflect upon our lives, when we began something may come into question.

Do you remember your first Easter, assuming you had one? For me that is some years ago. I was three or four-years-old. I awoke early before my parents, and stealthily tiptoed into the living room in search of the precious Easter eggs.

Next week marks the beginning of the season of Lent. On (Ash) Wednesday you may see people with ashen crosses, crudely smeared on their foreheads. It is an old tradition, reminding us, as the Bible says, that "You are dust and to dust you shall return.

It has been 35 years, but I remember the birth of my first child as if it were last year. There was the waiting, the doctor's appointments, the preparation - assembling a crib, the little clothes, bottles, and diapers.